


The Adventures of Kitty and Candy Pants

by colorthefall



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Family, Fluff, Gen, Growing Up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-05 05:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5363231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorthefall/pseuds/colorthefall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shots about my favorite brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Whole Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is a reposting, with some edits to make it more clear. Please read my profile before interacting with these stories! Thanks very much. This was my first Over the Garden Wall story! <3 I hope you enjoy!

There was no conceivable way that Wirt would be able to see his tiny brother from all the way at the back of the large auditorium, and yet, he couldn’t help himself from desperately craning his neck to try anyway whenever a new group of choir kids shuffled onto the stage. He squinted as he tried to find Gregory’s bright brown eyes beaming back at him.

The lights blinding him and the obnoxiously tall and over-enthusiastic parents standing in front of him made it even more hopeless.

Wirt grimace, resolving to keep them glued until the music began to play.

_“Yeah… I’m sorry, guys. I just have to go; my parents are making me.” the boy groaned, shuffling nervously where he stood and kicking his boots into the dewy grass of the football field._

_Sara and her friends from the marching band nodded in understanding simultaneously. She grinned brightly, setting the bulbous bee head of her mascot suit to the side so her hands were free to pull her boyfriend into a tender embrace._

_“We can hang out some other time.” she murmured in his ear, placing a kiss on his cheek as she pulled away. “See you later, Wirt!” she chimed, her friends following suit as the blushing, blubbering poet made his way off of the field and clamored onto the sidewalks, hearing bells all the while._

Alone with his thoughts, he shifted his gaze down into his lap in shame; he’d lied to her, and all of her friends. But Wirt couldn’t bear to imagine how embarrassed he’d feel if he had stood there and told them the truth, and forced the guilt out of his gut with all the strength he could muster.

All that he’d brought with him was a camera, and all he needed to worry about was how he was going to put it to good use when he was so far away from the stage. Any picture he could take from here would just show Greg as a tiny speck among a sea of lanky kids and tweens twice his size. 

At seven years old, Gregory was still quite a small boy. Wirt blamed it on their mom seeing as shortness ran on her side of the family. It was something that the three of them had in common… and although it wasn’t much, similarities between himself and his brother warmed Wirt’s heart.

_Yeah. My brother. What’s a half-brother anyway?_

_Does that make him any less **mine?**_

He’d asked himself that question dozens and dozens of times. It used to keep him up at night, when he was ten and Greg was hardly a week old.  Wirt remembered how hot the tears in his eyes felt when he saw how different Greg looked from himself because it wouldn’t have been that way if Wirt’s father were still alive. Wirt dreamed of having a baby brother, but not by a stranger. He didn't know who his step-father was really, aside from his name and the fact that he worked with his mom at the hospital. His brother was a stranger, too, as far as he was concerned. 

But then, baby Greg’s puffy, gooey eyelids opened to reveal two very familiar shimmering dark brown irises, making his big brother’s heart melt and drip with adoration.

_“He’s got your eyes, doesn’t he, honey?” Wirt’s mother whispered to her eldest son as he sat perched in a seat at her bedside, cradling the infant in his arms._

_“Y-yeah. He does.” the boy sniffled, blinking away a tear. Gregory’s curious, wandering eyes settled on his big brother’s face, and a faint smile graced his thin pink lips. “Mom! He’s smiling at me!” Wirt declared in astonishment._

_“He sure is!”_

Wirt was lost in his own mind, and hardly noticed the clock’s hour hand inching ever-closer to the time that the concert was set to begin. He didn’t even notice when the lights in the auditorium dimmed and the couple in front of him quietly took their seats.

“O-oh, shoot-“ Wirt grumbled under his breath as he fumbled with the disposable camera in his hands, shaking it a little to ensure it was working. He didn’t want to miss a moment of this.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our all-county Christmas concert, showcasing the talents of young singers in grades K through eight…”

Wirt sighed in relief and a smile tugged at his lips; the darkness surrounding the bright stage made it much easier to see the children standing on it. And very clearly and quickly, he scouted the face of his baby brother, looking dazed and dopey as ever, as he was probably lost in a day dream.

_“You’re gonna come hear me sing, aren’t you, mom and dad?” Greg asked hopefully to his parents one night, standing at the foot of their bed just before he was due to turn in himself. Wirt peeked through the cracked door, unable to help himself from eavesdropping and feeling shocked that he hadn’t been the first one Greg invited to the concert._

_“We’re sorry, dear. We’ve both got work when it’s scheduled…” their mother said regretfully, reaching down to pat his head._

_“Yeah, we’re sorry. They shouldn’t have scheduled it on a Tuesday of all days.” Gregory’s father added sadly, gently smiling at his crestfallen child._

_Greg assured his parents that he was just fine, but the change in his demeanor from cheery to somber was more than evident to his big brother, who stopped him before he could reach his room at the end of the hall._

_“Why didn’t you ask me if I wanted to go, Greg?” Wirt inquired, kneeling down to Gregory’s eye-level and placing a gentle hand upon his shoulder._

_“Well, you’ve been so busy and all- getting ready to, you know-“ he paused, shuddering and chattering his teeth (the ones he hadn't yet lose to sticky caramel apples) for effect. “…_ **graduate** _… I didn’t want to bother you.” Greg softly muttered, turning away from his brother and making the trek to his room swiftly. Wirt had seen the tears begin to pool in the boy’s eyes just before he fled, and nearly felt them in his own at the sight. Sadness was something so uncharacteristic of Greg that whenever it reared its ugly head in the young one’s soul, it was powerful enough to knock the planets out of orbit._

Without thinking, Wirt stood in his seat and cried out to him.

“Greg! Greg!” he screeched, flailing his arms about wildly, accidentally snapping a few photos of the air whoosing by in the process.

His voice carried- _loudly_ \- through the room, all the way to Greg’s ears. The choir boy turned his head, his face lighting up brighter than the full moon outside at the sight of his big brother in the crowd, cheering for him before he even gave his performance.

“WIRT! HI, WIRT!!” he screamed with enthusiasm that mimicked Wirt’s own, nearly running out of his place and off of the stage to greet him, but he was able to restrain himself when he remembered where he was and that he was supposed to be getting ready to sing with his friends. He put his hands at his sides as he was instructed to do by his choral director and sucked in enough air to make his cheeks bubble out to keep himself from talking. But all the while, he never stopped looking at Wirt and smiling sweetly at him, overwhelmed with joy that he had decided to come and see him sing even despite his busy senior year schedule.

Wirt was flustered beyond his own means of understanding, in disbelief at how loud that call for Greg was. He could feel the gazes of a hundred irritated parents upon his boney, shivering back, but there was no turning back from there so he decided he should just get all of his pending blunders out for the night in one go. He whistled through his teeth and snapped about ten photos of Greg before he willed himself to sit down and regained the feeling in his legs.

Soft whispers of a harp filled the room, silencing all with its fragile majesty. In came the booming of bass drums and the clanking of symbols, all leading up to the sounds of the children vocalizing in harmony with one another.

Wirt didn’t hear a word any of them were saying. He was beyond bitter than his brother disappeared among them again as the night progressed and they switched positions for the different songs. But finally, it was Greg’s turn for a solo, just as the night had nearly come to a close. He sat in the middle of all of the taller kids and closed his eyes, opening his mouth to sing.

“Up on the housetop reindeer pause,” his syrupy voice chirped, “out jumps good ole Santa Claus. Down through the chimney with lots of toys; all for the little ones, Christmas joys.”

Wirt finally listened for the first time that night, grinning from ear to ear as he hung on his brother’s every word, his chest tight. Tears began to well up in his eyes. He whispered the lyrics under his breath.

It was quite a peculiar sight for a teen to be alone in an ocean of parents, sobbing, singing, and snapping photos all at once. But Greg liked it that way, because it was dark out in the audience and this way, it was easier to see his big brother and be comforted by his presence at the concert. So comforted, in fact, that it was almost as though he didn’t need to bring Jason Funderberker along with him in the first place!

_Oh yeah; Jason!_ Greg thought as he entered the third verse. _He’s really wriggling around in my pants. It tickles._

A breath hitched in his throat as he suddenly felt the lump that was his pet frog in the back of his pants vanish into thin air, and heard shrill shrieking from his classmates as they fled the stage, Jason Funderberker croaking innocently through it all.

“AH! Get back here this instant young man!” Greg demanded in his most authoritative tone, running after his disobedient frog baby.

Within moments, almost every young singer had left the area, leaving Greg alone on stage, having captured his pet frog at last.

Angry parents were absolutely dumbstruck by what had just happened and many simply took their children and left. Some were intent on giving the choral director a piece of their mind. But mostly, the parents who had been sitting around Wirt and saw him cheering for Greg were crowded around him and demanding that he control his crazy kid and his disease-ridden frog this instant.

“A disaster, all thanks to your unruly child!” a woman screamed in his ear.

“Why on earth would you let him bring a frog in his pants to a choir concert?” a man scolded him.

“H-hey! Get away from me! I didn’t do anything!” Wirt protested the swarm, pushing past them, armed with his camera. He clumsily stepped over the rows of seats and only tripped over his untied shoelaces twice before he made it to the front of the auditorium. He still wept as he approached the stage and saw Greg and their frog sitting on it, looking more or less undisturbed by the fact that they ruined the evening and made over a hundred people absolutely livid, not to mention emotionally scarred a handful of children.

“Wirt!” Greg greeted his big brother at last, grinning cheerily. “There you are! I’m so glad you came! Hey, why’re you crying?” he wondered, standing and rushing to his side. Wirt was silent as he tried to wiped the tears away from his eyes, worrying Greg deeply. Wirt chuckled through his tears and held his arms out for Greg to walk into. The kid obliged and chirped with delight as Wirt spun him around. 

“I’m s-so proud of you, Greg.” Wirt said between choked sobs, standing still again and giving Greg a big kiss on the nose. 

“And I’m proud of you, son!” Greg murmured in a deep tone, mimicking his father. He crinkled his nose up when it was kissed. 

“I love you so much.” Wirt said softly, holding Greg against his chest and nuzzling his nose into his soft brown hair. It was something he rarely ever said, save for when Gregory had already fallen asleep and he was tucking blankets around him. He said it so rarely that even Greg didn’t know what to think and was taken aback by the declaration, but he soon accepted it, and kissed Wirt's cheek. 

“I love you, too, kitty!” he cheered. 

Wirt was about to say more; he was about to pour his entire heart out to this boy, apologizing to him for all the opportunities he passed on to spend time together, for all the times he could have said “I love you” and didn’t for fear of embarrassment, for all those times he felt himself being bitter at Greg’s arrival into this world simply for not being his full blooded brother- because full blood or not, Wirt loved him just the same and with his whole heart- but he wasn’t able to say any of this. He bit his tongue in sheer terror as Gregory’s red-faced choral director lumbered toward him, seeking vengeance for sending an onslaught of furious, foul-mouthed parents upon him.

Wirt’s locked legs suddenly turned into noodles. He stumbled a bit before he took off in the direction of the exit, making sure to hold tightly onto Greg as he did so.

“Woo! You’ll never take us alive, coppers!” the boy hollered after them.

Their frog managed to latch onto Wirt’s leg just as the exit doors were falling shut behind them.

\--

The rest of the evening went on well. The brothers and their frog recovered from their daring escape from the scene of a crime and lay on the living room floor in the home, exasperated and breathless. They decided that they wouldn't be telling mom and dad about they made Mr. Holloway and a bunch of parents absolutely livid, but they would be telling them how wonderful Greg's solo was...

After a full recovery, Greg realized he sleepy. His eyelids felt heavy, as did his limbs. He didn't think he could walk upstairs because he was feeling far too lazy for it, so he closed his eyes and tried to look as cute as possible, as it usually coaxed Wirt or one of his parents into carrying him to his bedroom. Wirt was unaware of this tactic. He simply grinned warmly at the sweet display and took Greg carefully into his arms, carrying him quietly up the stairs so as not to stir him from his pretend-sleep.

“Thanks for coming, Wirt.” Greg hummed hoarsely, nuzzling his face into Wirt’s unkempt, dark hair. Since he was already upstairs he figured if Wirt decided to put him down, it wouldn't be too terribly painful to walk the rest of the way.

But Wirt liked carrying Greg; it was like having a little space heater cuddled up to your stomach. And more importantly, this way, Wirt was absolutely sure that he was safe and that nothing ill would befall him. When Greg was okay, Wirt felt happiest.

“Mom and dad made you, huh?” Greg reasoned. It was extremely rare that Wirt ever really took an interest in what was going on in Greg’s life. Though Wirt become ten times more involved with his brother after what had occurred in the Unknown- to the point of clinginess- Greg had been pushed to the side for so long that he was slow to accept the fact that he was now the most important person in Wirt’s life.

“No, Greg.” Wirt explained, his heart sinking in his chest as he remembered how apathetic he used to be about Greg’s endeavors. But after almost losing him in the wood, Wirt couldn’t bear being anything less than annoyingly present in Greg’s life- but he still lied about it for fear of humiliation.

Not anymore.

“I came because I wanted to. I wanted to hear you sing and see you on stage… I’m really so proud of you, Greg.” Wirt said all in one breath, feeling tears in his again, but he quickly wiped them away. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. And I won’t miss anything else, either.” With a chuckle, he added-

“-and that’s a rock fact.”

Greg burst into peals of laughter, tears springing into his own eyes and pain poking at his sides. Wirt laughed along with him, holding him ever-tighter as they entered Greg’s bedroom. He sat him down on the bed and handed him a pair of folded pajamas that were littered with red and blue stars.

“But what about when you graduate? You’ll be too busy for little ole me, won’t you?” Greg asked after he managed to stop laughing, clumsily shoving his limbs into the shirt and pant sleeves of his pj’s. Wirt chuckled at the frantic display and eventually had to help Greg put them on properly.

“Nope. I’m never going to be too busy for you, Greg. I’ll always be there when you need me.” Wirt declared, laying Greg at the head of the bed. He tossed a thick, cream-colored comforter over him and gave him a hug, which Greg returned happily. 

“Goodnight, brother o’ mine.” the little one sighed, letting his head fall back against his pillow and his heavy eyelids lock securely over his eyes. 

“Goodnight, Greg.”

Wirt placed a kiss on the child’s head and smiled, waiting until his breathing steadied to leave the room.


	2. Santa Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg is going to kidnap Santa.

Wirt sat on the sofa, squished between his tiny mom and his gargantuan stepfather.

Family nights were the absolute worst, but for good reasons, he supposed. He did enjoy the chance to have those he loved with him in the same place at the same time, which rarely occurred due to his mom and stepfather always working late at the hospital, but he could go without the hugs and children’s films, for sure. To make matters worse, they were watching Christmas movies since it was the eve of the holiday.

“He’s going to take the bait.” Greg explained as he set his pet frog down onto a plate of cookies that laid on the coffee table. “And then, I’m going to get him!” he roared, throwing a thick, mink comforter over the entirety of the table.

The frog underneath it croaked miserably, but his cries for help were drowned out by the sound of enthusiastic applause and cheering.

Their mom and Greg’s dad held hands as they discussed how they were going to execute Christmas day that year; who was going to clean up after opening presents, who was going to pick up grandma and great aunts and uncles, who was going to make dinner… they had to lean over Wirt in order to do this, crushing him in the process. He squirmed rigorously in hopes of escaping, but when Greg jumped onto his lap to join in on the cuddle fest, he knew that he was trapped for at least the length of one tv movie.

_Please don’t be Frosty the Snowman again._

“Do you really think you’re going capture Santa Claus, Greg?” the elder brother asked the boy in his arms, who had settled comfortably on his lap, staring intently at the television to see what movie was coming on next.  

_I hope it’s Frosty the Snowman._

“Yup. Then he’s going to tell me all his secrets.” Greg stated matter-of-factly, putting both of his small hands on top of the interlocked ones of his parents and squeezing them. 

His mom kissed his head, thinking the gesture was sweet. She didn’t pull away entirely without making sure to give Wirt a kiss on his cheek, too. “I think he should get us to work for him.” Greg added, as though the kiss had sparked a memory.

“Why is that?”

“Because we got through the Unknown in one night, remember? We would make good helpers.”

“Yeah. I guess.” Wirt chuckled, ruffling Greg’s hair.

He tried to listen in on the conversation his mom was having with his stepdad, but their words were drowned out by the sounds of obnoxiously loud commercials on the television until finally the movie began. 

Naturally, it was Frosty the Snowman. Greg beamed, rocking his head from side to side to the tune of the song and singing the lyrics under his breath.

Wirt groaned, preparing to shove some tissues into his ears so he wouldn’t have to hear it for the eighth time that week when he felt his mother tap his shoulder, and the weight in his lap was lifted by his stepfather, who had soulfully begun to bellow out the lyrics to the song in unison with his son.

She led him to the kitchen and rested her hands on either of his shoulders, looking him gravely in the eyes.

“Greg’s plan to capture Santa will not be executed this year.” she stated monotonously, her expression deadpanned. It wasn’t very off-putting to her eldest son, however; she was naturally a serious person. She had to be to be a cardiovascular surgeon.

Wirt raised a brow and stared blankly down at her. But as it dawned on him what her words entailed, his expression shifted into one of annoyance. How could his tradition of locking Greg up in his room and knocking him out with allergy medication to make sure he didn’t sneak downstairs and catch his parents putting gifts under the tree have slipped his mind? But the catch, of course, was that over the years, they had had to use the medicine to get him to sleep so often that he basically became immune to it. Wirt was sure it wouldn’t work this year, meaning he’d have to stay up all night long along with his hyperactive little brother, all when he was looking forward to getting some well-earned rest during his winter break from school.

“If you fail on your mission, I will be forced to deliver consequences.” his mother carried on. “It’s your pick; either I only speak in Spanish to you for three months, or you have to wash the dishes every night for a year.”

The usual punishments.

Wirt ordinarily picked dishes, but going to bed with pruney fingers every night started getting on his nerves, so, last time he got into trouble, he picked Spanish. He cringed at the thought; it took him weeks to stop speaking with an accent on certain words and everyone started thinking he was crazy… never again.

“ _Dishes_.”

“It’s a deal, then. Good luck.” she saluted him, then placed a bowl full of caramel corn into his arms and shooed him back into the living room while she stayed behind to make the hot chocolate. Wirt watched as Greg pretended his father was Frosty and threw a scarf around his neck. The man was already clad in a top hat, and his arms were partially tucked into his shirt sleeves with two pencils poking out of them to act as the snowman’s stick arms.

This was going to be a long night.

Their mom gave Greg the allergy medicine with his hot chocolate, but as Wirt predicted, it wasn’t enough to keep him from bouncing off of the walls for the rest of their little family gathering.

By ten pm, Greg’s energy migrated upstairs. Wirt was supposed to be helping him brush his teeth and change into pajamas, but Greg got preoccupied with setting up his Santa traps, which consisted of some sort of tub with a plate of milk and cookies inside (Greg ran out of cookies at the third trap, so he left Santa some M&M’s instead). He’d carefully picked several locations throughout the house; one just outside of his own bedroom, at the top of the stairs, at the foot of the stairs, and by the backdoor just in case, but he’d only succeeded in laying out half of them. He still needed to put one at the bottom of the stairs.

While Wirt had his back turned, Greg grabbed his toy box and slid it down the steps, prepared to run after it. But he was yanked backward and found himself being carried upside down by Wirt, back into his bedroom. The toy chest kept tumbling until it reached the bottom of the steps and was sadly discarded at the front door, but Greg promised it he’d return.

“You better not try to leave this room again, Greg.” Wirt scolded him, leaning onto his knees because he was exasperated already.

“I’m not making any promises…” Greg shrugged his shoulders and tried to get down from the bed. But before his feet could hit the floor, Wirt scooped him up again and placed him on the side of the mattress closest to the wall, throwing every pillow he owned around him as a barricade.  

The Santa Hunter scoffed, because Wirt had another thing coming if he thought that this was sufficient to get him to stay put; he could easily jump out when he wasn’t looking. But Wirt was tired and darn it he was going to get some sleep, and he wasn’t going to have to wash the dishes for a year, either. The smile fell from Greg’s face when Wirt hovered over him with his own blanket trap he’d been reserving for Santa. Instantly, he saw red as the soft fabric obscured his vision. It constricted around him like a snake as his big brother locked his arms around his body and pulled him into his lap.

Breathlessly, Greg relaxed, sighing in relief when Wirt loosened his grip. Poking his head out of the blankets to catch a breath, Wirt tensed and squeezed him again, mistaking it as a jailbreak.

“I’ll stay, I’ll stay!” the tiny boy cried helplessly. “I won’t leave! Promise!”

Wirt grinned and let go, watching as Greg rolled out of his arms and lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Wirt had a door on the roof of his closet that surely led to the attic, didn’t he? Greg had only ever ventured up there alongside a grown-up, but he was sure he could manage. He could already picture himself climbing on top of the boxes in Wirt’s closet and into the attic with his Santa-trapping supplies in tow.

He was so engrossed in his fantasy that when the room when black, he was completely caught off guard. He struggled to contain a scream of shock and terror until he could no more, his shrill cries startling all in the home. Greg forgot to take darkness into account when he was making his plans.

He scrambled off of the bed in search of someone or something that would make the room bright again, bumping into Wirt’s legs. They both tumbled to the floor. Wirt screeched in pain as he landed on a piece of his toy train. Greg was terrified and thought that a monster was attacking Wirt because it was the only logical reason for the lights going out and for him to scream. The little boy trembled with fear, his sobs growing ever louder.

“GREG! It’s okay!” Wirt spat tiredly, pulling Greg into his arms as he gathered himself to his feet. He pat Greg’s back with his free hand, using his foot to crack the door open so that light from the hallway could filter through. 

Bits of the room became visible- just enough for Greg to determine that there was indeed no monster in the vicinity. Greg still clung to Wirt, his chest heaving, and his salty tears dampening the fabric of Wirt’s t-shirt as they fell.

Wirt sighed, climbing back into his bed and rearranging the pillows. He laid Greg down, gingerly tucking the corners of the blankets around him, hoping that it would give Greg a better sense of security than an ordinary hug would, seeing as he was still so distraught. He joined Greg underneath the blankets and pulled him against his chest, trying again to rub his back and soothe his nerves.

It was sort of strange that Greg had adopted a fear of the dark, when in the past he had no problem with it. But it was only natural after what happened to him in the woods. 

For Greg, darkness was so much more than just the absence of light… it was the loss of hope, love, and happiness. Darkness meant that he was going to be alone forever. It meant goodbye. It meant that he’d never be able to right his wrongs or see the ones he cared for again.

“Hey, now, stop crying…” Wirt gently cooed. Greg tried, but the tears kept pouring. He could see Wirt thanks to light from the hallway but he was still very spooked. Wirt settled in the bed so that the two were on the same eye-level and kissed his forehead. “Everything’s fine. Tomorrow is Christmas. Be happy… but not too happy, because you have to go to sleep now.” he mumbled, pressing his lips against Greg’s cheek and blowing a raspberry into it to make him laugh.

Greg sniffled but nodded his head. He was little too sad to laugh, but he appreciated the effort and pat Wirt’s head in silent gratitude.

He felt safe when Wirt held him, so he calmed down eventually and even started to get a little sleepy. His plans to capture Santa temporarily left his mind as it was clouded with memories of the Beast. The Beast was kind of like the Grinch in the way it took away his Christmas spirit. He never wanted to tell Wirt that he had bad dreams about the Beast and that he was scared of it, because he wanted to be brave, too.

He nodded to himself. He was going to be brave, even if a monster really was there, or if there ever was one. If Wirt isn’t scared of monsters, then Greg shouldn’t be, either.  

“Wirt?” Greg asked, looking up at his big brother, whose breathing had evened out.

He smiled; asleep at last. Expertly, he began to ease himself off of Wirt’s chest and downward to the foot of the bed to sneak out undetected.

Wirt was sleeping deeply but still stirred, because his sixth sense was the feeling he got in his bones when Greg was about to get into trouble. He sat up in the bed and looked around in the darkness until he caught sight of him crawling on the floor, slipping soundlessly out of the room.

Wirt growled in anger and hopped off of his bed, running into the hall just in time to catch Greg before he made his way down the stairs. Their parents were already by the tree, settling the presents beneath it and froze solid in their places as they heard Greg’s footsteps on the stairs.

“Oh, no.” his mom whispered, her eyes wide. She looked up from the present she’d been fumbling with to where her husband had been sitting only, to be greeted by empty space; he’d fled. He sure as heck wasn’t going to be there when Greg’s dreams were crushed by discovering Santa isn’t real. “YOU’RE A  **COWARD**. A WEAKLING!” she grunted, loud enough for him to hear, wherever he was. Probably in the closet underneath the coats.

Their mother need not worry about Greg though. Wirt wasn’t going to let him ruin his own Christmas miracles. The little boy yelped in shock when the world suddenly turned upside down. He’d been kidnapped on his own kidnapping mission, by his own brother!

“What? I was just going to the bathroom…” he tried to reason with the angry teen that tossed him over his shoulder, starting back down the hall with heavy feet and bloodshot eyes.

“Bathroom’s this way.”

“You got me.” Greg pouted, snapping his fingers. The blood was rushing to his head. He stared wistfully at the ceiling stairs.

The night was getting older. Santa’s visit could only last for so long and was no doubt fast-approaching. Greg had to do something quick or he’d miss his opportunity to be recruited as a helper elf and learn Santa’s secrets!

Wirt sat Greg down in front of the bathroom and pushed his back until he was inside, shutting the door behind him and waiting on the other side of it. He was so exhausted that he couldn’t stand up anymore and let himself slink down to the floor, leaning back and closing his eyes. Greg had been sleepy earlier. Why was he all riled up again?

“Please get sleepy.” Wirt groaned in agony, throwing his head forward and burying it into his knees.

Greg, meanwhile, had fixated his gaze on the tiny window between the tub and shower and grinned gleefully.

Moments passed. Wirt had been held captive by a micro-sleep. By the time he was able to snap himself out of it, five minutes had been eaten away by father time. He stood and knocked on the bathroom door.

“Greg? You done yet?”

No answer.

He got that feeling underneath his skin again that felt like stretching rubber and shivered in disgust. Opening the door cautiously, he was hit with a burst of chilly air, coming at him from an opened window. His eyes widened in disbelief. This kid was absolutely out of his mind. Surely he had enough sense to know what a dumb plan that was.

_Nope. Greg loves bad plans._

Wirt prayed to God he was going to open up the shower curtains and find Greg passed out in the bath tub. With bated breath, he clutched the plastic drapes and tugged them back. But all he saw Jason Funderberker, sleeping next to some plastic bath toys with bubbles on his back.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no.”

He stood on the edge of the tub and craned his neck to see the roof below him. Greg was there, shivering violently, but still moving slowly, determined to get to his own bedroom window so he could hide in his room and wait for Wirt to go back to sleep, so he could eventually commence his Clause-catching mission once again.

“ _WHAT_. ARE YOU. DOING.  **AGGGGH** -!!  **GOD-SH, GOSH DAM-RNIT**!”

Greg gasped.  

“ _Wirt_! Don’t say bad words. The baby reindeer will hear you!” he called over his shoulder, taking a big step forward. Wirt’s heart caught in his throat as Greg slid and landed on his back, landing with a gentle thud on the roof. It was enough to stir their mother downstairs.

Wirt climbed out of the window, his socks getting wet as soon as they stepped down onto the snow, the heat from his feet melting it on contact.

“DON’T YOU DARE MOVE .” he demanded once he caught his breath, so loudly that he was certain his parents and the whole darn town could hear him.

Greg frowned. He was so close. He stared longingly at his bedroom window from where he lay on the shingles, then looked back up at Wirt with sad eyes.

Wirt was seething with anger. His face was as red as Rudolph’s nose and probably so hot that it didn’t even feel cold to him outside. A breeze blew by and rattled Greg to his core, but Wirt didn’t even bat an eyelash at it. He picked Greg up and carried him to the window, so angry that he couldn’t even speak.

Greg was lifted to the window and climbed back into the bathroom, where his mom was standing, wide-eyed at what she had just witnessed. He covered his eyes because her daggers were stabbing them.

–

_This is the worst Christmas ever_. Greg whined to himself, still upset from having gotten yelled at by  _everyone_  in his family, including his abuela over the phone, who was outraged when her daughter immediately called her to tell her what’d he done after she’d finished screaming at him. His dad was disappointed, too, but he seemed happier that he didn’t get hurt when he was on the roof and greeted him with hugs, much to Wirt and mom’s annoyance ( _“Don’t you have a closet to be in or something?”_ ). It was 1 am by the time the whole fiasco was over, and Greg was right back where he started in Wirt’s bedroom, trapped underneath layers of blankets and shrouded in darkness.

Wirt couldn’t sleep anymore. He was still angry, and still trying to calm down from the rush of adrenaline that plagued him when he was yelling at Greg for doing something so stupid and crazy just to catch someone who didn’t even exist. He had to bite his tongue before that last part got out, though.

Greg was still so little. He still had so many years of being a goofy little brat, and Wirt knew his mission was in the name of making sure those years would last for as long as possible. He didn’t want Gregory to ever grow up. He feared that he’d be like him, and lose the pep in his step and the enthusiasm he had for any and everything. If Greg discovered Santa wasn’t real at this age, Wirt worried that he would literally be forcing Greg to adulthood at a faster pace than was necessary, as silly as it sounded.

“You know, you’re so lucky that it’s too late for Santa to put you on the naughty list.” Wirt barked suddenly at Greg, who had begun to fall asleep but was stirred from it by the other’s harsh tone. “Or else, you’d be getting enough coal in your stocking to fuel a train.”

Greg whimpered. Wirt sure knew a lot about trains, so that must have been a lot of hypothetical coal.

“I just wanted to be his helper. I wanted to meet him.” he murmured sadly, pulling the blankets up over his nose.

“If you did that tonight, there’d be kids who wouldn’t get their presents, because he’d be here for too long, talking to you.”

“I guess you’re right. I feel bad.”

“At least you’re sorry.” Wirt shuffled about in the bed until he was facing Greg. “Santa doesn’t need any help. He has hundreds of elves already.”  He offered Greg a sympathetic smile and booped his nose.

Greg chuckled despite himself and nodded.

“I could work for him as his reindeer doctor though, for when they get sick.” Greg wrapped his arms around one of Wirt’s and rested his head against it, closing his eyes.

“You have to go to college before you can do that.” Wirt said quietly, watching as Greg’s eyelids fluttered shut and smiling at the scene.

Finally. He was asleep.

His mission was complete, but mom and his stepdad’s mission had only just begun, as they had wasted so much time dealing with Greg that they had dozens of presents yet to be wrapped and placed under the tree.

Wirt closed his eyes, comforted by the warmth of the body in his arms and the way that cotton on his blanket felt against the skin of his cheeks. The silence was melodic, as was the beating of Greg’s heart, lulling the teen back into sleep.

“ **PSSSSST.** ”

But his dreams would have to wait.

“H-huh? Mom?”

“We need your help. We’re tired.” she whined softly. There was a splotch of glitter on her face, and bits of sparkly tinsel caught in her long, dark brown locks of hair that made her easy to see even in the dark room. “Come wrap some gifts for us, pretty please. I’ll let you open one.”

“Okay.” Wirt sighed. There was no use protesting. “But please make me some hot—“

“I already did; it’s on the table. Vamos.”

Wirt smiled because nights with his family were the worst but the best at the same time and he loved that.  

“ _Muchísimas gracias_.”  

His mom faintly grinned and nudged him in the shoulder as they made their way to the Christmas tree.


	3. I Hate Missing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg's dad is sending him to stay with is family over the summer.

Wirt’s cheeks were ablaze as he watched Greg try to zip himself up inside of his suitcase and felt his stepfather’s gaze on his back. His lips were as bright red as Gregory’s play shoes from biting them as he fumbled with his words, and his nails had been chewed so that he wouldn’t be able to tear plastic casings off of his own snacks for at least a month.

“Th-this is dumb.” he dared to reason aloud, kneeling down beside the luggage that Greg had burrowed in.

Apprehensive amber irises stared at the mop of slicked-back hair squirming around beneath the mouth of the suitcase, for want of avoiding seeing the smug smile he was so sure was on his stepfather’s stupid, smug face.

“I mean… the  _entire_  summer? That’s ridiculous, come on.” Wirt groaned, throwing his hands up. “It’s like you’re trying to get rid of him. Is _that_ what you want?”

He hoped that if he waved his hands around enough it would detract from the concern in his tone. Though despite whatever effort he may have made to appear nonchalant, it was obvious that the thought of not having his little brother around for even a moment was tearing him to pieces.

“-AHH!” he cried when he looked back down at where he expected to see Greg’s hair again, only to be greeted by two bulbous brown irises with pint-sized pupils.

“Zip me!” Greg spat in a hoarse whisper, his big, glossy eyes obscured slightly by the t-shirt that was on top of his head.

In order to fit inside, he had to find a way to make room. So naturally he put on all of the shirts and all of his pants and socks until he was just a fat pillow that would be safe to smush down. But Wirt was partaking in no such smushing, so Greg was getting a little impatient. He furrowed his brows and wriggled his arms out from beneath his shirt prison so he could grab onto Wirt’s hands.

Wirt was so distraught at the prospect of Greg leaving that he didn’t even pull away.

So Wirt’s stepfather exhaled slowly, trying to approach the situation with a sympathetic nature- but not _too_ sympathetic, because then Wirt would assume he was being sarcastic and making fun of him for being clingy and he would get in trouble with mom- but _just_ enough so that Wirt wouldn’t accuse him of being cold and unconcerned with his feelings and get him in trouble with mom.

“Gregory needs to spend time with my side of the family, too, sport.” the man stated gently, smiling- but only because he was pleased with his smooth execution and careful word choice ( _not_ because he was being domineering).

He was satisfied that there was absolutely no way in this world or in any conceivable world that what he said could be misconstrued as-

“Oh so what? Our side of the family isn’t good enough?”

_Dang it._

“N-no, that’s not—“

“Zip me! Zip me! Zip me!” the littlest of the lot chanted, jerking his brother’s arm up and down to the rhythm of his plea.

Wirt shrugged his shoulders and pulled back the zipper, closing Greg up once and for all.

“That’s not what I meant, Wirt. I think you and I both know that.”

The man’s tone was still understanding of the feelings that his stepson worked to clumsily conceal, if it weren’t obvious enough already by the warmth in his bright blue eyes.

Wirt turned back to his stepfather and crossed his arms over his chest, defeated, and willing to give him a break just this once. His brother squealed from inside of the luggage before flopping up onto its side and falling across his lap. Once again, a smile forced its way onto Wirt’s face as he wrapped his arms around the bag, but it quickly faded when he imagined it being wheeled away onto an airplane.

“He doesn’t even know them. I don’t even think he cares about them. You’re going to send him across the country to spend the entire summer with people he neither knows nor cares about!” he said all in one breath. Greg’s dad could be as pleasant as he wanted to be but that didn’t change the fact that this was the worst idea he had ever had and that Wirt would still resent him for it. “He’s never been on a plane before. His ears are going to pop. He’ll be in pain. We can give him gum but we all know he’s gonna eat it all and then swallow It or stick to something and forget about it, and then he’ll be on the plane with no gum! And… and what if he _hates_ it there? What if he misses m-“

Wirt paused, the hot blood in his head making his forehead garner condensation. Senses heightened thanks to his fear, it finally donned on him that Greg’s dad was perfectly aware of the real reason that he was so against Greg going away for the summer. He dug his teeth into his already swollen lips to keep himself from stammering.

“What if he misses  _mom?”_ he corrected himself. “I was going to say _mom_.”

He had been frowning for so long that his face was starting to hurt, but it only intensified when Greg’s dad began to laugh, that stupid jerk!

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. You two are adorable!” Greg’s dad spat between his giggles.   
  
There was no way to undo the damage.

“I’MNOTGOINGTOMISSHIMANDIDON’TCAREIFHEGOESOKAY!” Wirt shouted, slapping his hands over his eyes, trying to drown out the sounds of his stepdad’s restrained laughter.  

He set his Gregcase to this side and shuffled to his feet before running out of the room.  He tried to keep his frustrated tears at bay, but it was useless; he was going to miss Greg. He shouldn’t have zipped him. It was like sealing the deal. The tears pooled in his eyes made it hard to find his way back to his room, so he walked slowly and was naturally caught by Greg’s dad in the hallway.

“Wirt, listen; you know you are always welcome to go. I told you that from the start.”

Wirt kept his back turned and ducked before that gentle yet reaffirming hand could grasp his shoulder. He wanted to be comforted, but not by _him_.

“Yeah, Wirt! It’ll be lots of fun!” Greg cheered from up above; he was clung to his dad’s hip like a sloth.

Gregory reached a tiny hand out to embed itself in Wirt’s hair.

And Wirt smiled. It felt much better coming from Greg.

“Please? We could sleep outside every night in the mud with Jason Funderburker!”

“Way to reel him in, kiddo.”

“Yeah.” Wirt sighed, shaking his head and wiping his tears on his shirt sleeve. “I’ll go.”

He turned so slowly, and Greg was getting impatient. Before he was halfway facing his family again, Wirt found Greg latched onto his face like a starfish, his legs wrapped about his neck and his hands still entangled in his hair.

“YAY! Now we won’t have to miss each other!”

Wirt let out his most convincing groan before plucking Greg off of his face by the collar of his shirt and holding him proper. Greg took this as an invitation to keep hugging Wirt, hoping silently all the while that his dad would leave, because Wirt only hugged back when dad wasn’t around.

Greg’s dad cheered about this being wonderful and went downstairs to tell Greg’s grandparents on the phone that they had a tagalong, and about how mom was going to be so happy when she came home from work to find out Wirt had changed his mind. Wirt didn’t really listen. He was already on his way back to his room, where he shut the door and slid against it until he sat on the floor and Greg was in his lap. Wrapping his arms around his little brother’s tiny frame, Wirt sighed a breath that wasn’t shuddery and looked down at him with eyes that weren’t blurry with angry tears.

Greg looked at him like he was a piece of Halloween candy found in his overalls after he thought it was all gone.

“They’re just trying to get rid of us, you know. I’m just going cause we’re clearly not welcome here.” the eldest brother stated somberly.

Greg frowned.

“Ain’t that just the way…” he murmured, feeling the betrayal sinking in.

What wondrous adventures would mom and dad be off on while he and Wirt were away? They must be pretty good if they don’t want to share them!

But then Wirt smiled and kissed Greg’s forehead, ruffling his hair with both of his hands and sending him into peals of laughter. “… and because I _hate_ missing you!”

“Haha! Me too!”  Greg wriggled about, happy again.

Who cares what mom and dad would be doing? He and Wirt were gonna have ten times as much fun and then we’ll see who’s trying to get rid of who come next summer!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a while since I updated! I wrote this out of the blue one night. I hope it was enjoyable ; v ;


End file.
